“Love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength” - Mark 12:30
Nope, haven’t walked away yet. I know – shocks me too. I haven’t written in a long time though. I don’t really know why. I guess I still struggle with the thought of “writing
to impress.” The other part is I often
think – anything I have to say has already been said, and that said so much
better! It’s almost like I should just
copy and paste (and credit) other peoples’ stuff, things I find really
interesting or cool. I dunno, maybe I
will sometime. Probably not.
A couple weeks ago I had a little accident and fractured
five ribs. I’d love to say it was due to
some great sacrifice wherein I rescued someone (I’d even settle for a dog) from
some worse fate. Alas, the accident
occurred because of one of two things (maybe both). I made a really stupid move and fell because
of it, and/or because I’m just getting old and can’t do the things I used
to. So, at my age, broken ribs bring
life to a standstill. Since I’ve had so
much time to sit and think, I’ve become a superchristian! I spend my time like a monk, meditating on
God, the nature of God, the physics of the trinity, seasons of prayer which
have brought me to a sweet communion with Christ. Yeah, not so much.
The reality is, while I haven’t walked away, I might as well
have. You see, Christianity has become
for me a ritual, a habit. Oh I read my
Bible – most days. Say some prayers – as
I fall asleep. Get to church – as long
as there isn’t too much else going on. I
even tell others about Christ – but it’s usually just when I include his given
and surname together in a sentence.
I don’t feel like a hypocrite. I don’t tell others how to live and then live
the opposite. I certainly haven’t walked
away – I no longer deny Him. Or do
I? Yup, this is one of those ramblings
that’ll probably go nowhere. I do deny
Him. I deny Him every single day when I just
take for granted what others, namely Jesus, sacrificed so much for. I deny Him my time, talent (read that any way
you like), and I deny Him communion with his adopted son (that’d be me). How did I get here? Just look back to some of the original posts
on this blog and you will see a man who thirsted after, craved, a REAL
relationship with Jesus. And at some
point, I think I had that.
Maybe that’s it.
Maybe I “reached my goal” and everything since is just coasting
downhill. Kinda sad isn’t it? It’s funny how these thoughts came to me
today. I coughed. Thaaaaat’s right kids – I coughed. With five broken ribs, that isn’t very
comfortable. And somehow, in the midst
of that excruciating, stabbing pain I thought about when the Roman Guard stuck
the spear in Jesus’ side and how much that must have hurt. I mean, I was about doubled over and hadn’t
been beaten and I certainly wasn’t hanging from a cross!
That’s it. Nothing
fancy. Wasn’t a life changer. But it made me open my computer and start
typing. Taking stock of how far I’ve
devolved.
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